


Professional Attraction

by Ayngelcat



Series: TF Prime/G1 Crossovers [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Crack, Crossover Pairings, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, continuity crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for speedwriting. Prompt: First Kiss.</p><p>Ultra Magnus finds the G1 robots ‘somewhat undisciplined’ and disappointing. In Prowl’s case, however, an exception must be made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professional Attraction

Ultra Magnus had to admit it. He had misgivings about these Autobots from the Earth’s ‘eighties.’ They were likeable enough, granted; but they were – somewhat undisciplined. Their numbers were considerably greater than the Autobots had the luxury of in 2013. By contrast, the Decepticons numbered few. In light of this, the eighties bots seemed to have accomplished little, spending too much time on fruitless endeavours and frivolous pursuits.

Still - orders were orders. Ultra Magnus had carried them out implicitly. Ever since the groundbridge had glitched, sending Smokescreen and Bumblebee  through time as well as space, the commander had visited regularly. Studiously, he had obtained information about their new acquaintances, setting up liaison committees and exploring every way in which they might be assisted to end their war.

For it was only a matter of time before the Decepticons from his timeline found a way to visit this one. Ultra Magnus was largely unconcerned - from what he’d seen - by the Megatron of this timeline, who seemed even more ineffective than his Autobot counterpart. But the 2013 version with his drones, vehicons, Predacons and everything else, was for these ‘bots a far more formidable proposition.

The problem was, these Autobots did not make things easier for themselves. The commander reflected disapprovingly on the revelries he'd had to break up earlier. Street racing! When there was a war on. He hoped the perpetrators, a red and yellow pair who were far too flippant in the face of seniority, would be reprimanded appropriately.

Fortunately, the mech to whom that responsibility fell seemed an exception to the rest. Unlike others, he was an excellent sort, meticulous, dedicated and thorough. He was not a soldier by trade as Ultra Magnus understood it, but an enforcer. Nevertheless, the mech exhibited every single quality that Magnus admired.

"So action will be taken?" he asked the elegant black and white one now.

"Oh indeed,” Prowl said. He seemed pleased at the prospect. “I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the coming here of one who agrees with my philosophies. Its not that I believe in being severe, or in curtailing fun, but there is a time and place for it. Sadly, the lines have become rather blurred since our awakening here."

"So it was before I arrived in my time," Ultra Magnus said. "Still - let us take comfort that we share the same view."

Prowl had opened a cabinet on the wall. A neat row of cubes were stacked inside. Getting two out, Prowl placed one in front of Magnus. “Of course I never drink on duty,” he said. “But we are _off_ duty now, and this is midgrade. Might I tempt you to indulge?”

As Prowl had correctly said, there was a time and place. “That would be most pleasant,” Ultra Magnus said.  
..........  
   
The more the afternoon wore on, the more the commander liked Prowl. He not only described their war and the politics leading up to it with intellectuality and insight, but he also depicted his own Cybertron in vivid tones, showing pictures and holos at appropriate junctures, playing videos and remembering crucial moments and persons as was appropriate.

Magnus had nothing but admiration. It was obvious that the mech’s loss was great, the potential for emotion overwhelming – yet Prowl recounted stoically, never wavering or showing weakness.

Eventually, he moved from the conflict to Cybertron pre-war and his duties in Iacon, and Magnus was only impressed more by the obvious quality of his law enforcement policies. The excellence of the operations was evident. His intolerance for the lawless, the disreputable and any who would harm his homeworld, as exemplary as the rest.

Alas time was limited, and Ultra Magnus had a schedule to keep to. All too soon time pressed – but he found himself in a rare state of not wanting to leave, so taken was he with his new companion. It occurred to the commander how long it had been since he – connected – with anyone. Prowl’s gleaming panels and well maintained parts – not a creaking joint or a trace of rust in the impeccable seams – had hardly escaped his notice.

Neither had the door wings, which twitched occasionally. That was all that belied the mech’s sensitive systems which, Magnus suspected - with more than slight ripple to his sensors - were very much existent, if admirably concealed and only activated when appropriate.

Ultra Magnus found himself wondering about the future for this timeline, about whether cross time 'pairings' were acceptable. His optics fixed on the mech’s chevron - a gleaming and highly appealing mark of rank. Prowl frowned slightly, and the commander came to his senses. He must not forget himself!  Good grief – he’d only had two midgrades, but obviously they were having an effect.

Ultra Magnus pulled himself up straight. "I regret to say that I must depart," he said. "I am due to report for groundbridge transport at 03.00 and it is already 02.45.” He got to his feet. “But I must say, it has been an unparalleled pleasure.”

“Indeed it has,” Prowl got up too. “Although I fear I have talked too much. Next time I must hear more of your endeavors, commander. That is …” he looked suddenly embarrassed. “If a next time proves viable and convenient.”

“Oh, there must be a next time,” Ultra Magnus said, feeling a rare need to reassure this splendidly conscientious mechanism, and liking the dropping of the other's guard, and wanting 'next time' very much.

 

As they moved to the door, Ultra Magnus became conscious of the warm thrum of Prowl’s engine, the strength behind a powerful energy field. Prowl’s doorwings twitched more strongly, in a way Magunus was sure was not routine, and which stirred   excitement deep within the commander’s core.

“Until our next meeting …” Prowl said, extending his hand.

Ultra Magnus took it. The grip was firm and professional, the metal smooth and of superior alloys. Magnus looked up at Prowl, the other mech's optics such a very cobalt blue. And Magnus never knew whether it was that, or the sudden very pleasant scent of fuel and lubricant, or the evident flux in the EM field,  - or maybe the just the very excellence of the mech before him that made happen what happened next.

For suddenly, he was _kissing_ Prowl! Their lips brushed softly at first with a light clash that lingered. Then, as Prowl’s intakes gave a noticeable hitch, Magnus touched the white cheek with his fingers, compelled to kiss just a little deeper so the other’s mouth was strong on his and their glossae touched briefly at the tips.

Prowl murmured. Electric charge shot through Magnus, his own field flaring sharply. Heat swept off Prowl, and Magnus' interface relays burned in sudden need. Oh how he wanted to do more! How tempting was it to grab at those doorwings, seize the mech and kiss him forcefully, _feel_ him…

…let flow his lust, his need after being without so long and then at close quarters with such tantalizing attraction.

But no – Magnus was still what he was: a commanding officer on a specified mission which did not include extracurriculars.  And he had not taken leave completely of his senses – yet.

He drew back. “I’m sorry,” he said, firmly overriding the urges. “That was most impolite. I don’t know what came over me. I would be – disappointed – if that brings our discourses to an end, but I understand.”

But Prowl showed no sign of displeasure. And he was admirably composed; although - Magnus thought with renewed respect- as if he would have been anything less? Prowl brushed his mouth with the back of his hand and stepped back, regaining his equilibrium absolutely – although Ultra Magnus could not miss that the wings twitched in carefully mustered control, or that the mech's EM field still buzzed with the signature of higher than average charge.

“Like I said, I have no reservations about pleasure in appropriate time and circumstances,” Prowl said. “I take no offence – and will be happy to continue this particular discourse at our future liaisons.”

Ultra Magnus had not felt so relieved in eons. “Thank you,” he nodded. “That would be of great value I believe."

 


End file.
